


Revelations

by clokcwork_dragon



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:08:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29082906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clokcwork_dragon/pseuds/clokcwork_dragon
Summary: Flayn promises to help Lysithea with whatever it is that's ailing her; secrets are shared, and discoveries are made.
Relationships: Flayn/Lysithea von Ordelia
Kudos: 9





	Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> I ran a poll on my twitter about what people wanted me to write: Flaynnette, Flaynadetta or Flaysithea. And while Flaynette won, Flaysithea was right behind it. So... I cheated and wrote that lmao. Just two young-looking adult girls in love!!!

Lysithea was beautiful, Flayn thought. It was the first time she’d looked at the girl and thought of that, seeing her all grown up yet still bearing that childish streak, almost like her. Privately, Flayn liked to think the two of them had more in common than one would think; she, too looked quite young for her age, and was always treated like a child. She, too, was forced to hide her true self. And she, too, had a secret.

Not that she knew for _certain_ that Lysithea had one. The albino had never spoken openly about or even hinted towards it. But Flayn had an eye for such things- for words left unsaid, and questions left unanswered. Lysithea was hiding something too painful to share with others. Flayn wondered if she could help her with it, if only she was able to learn what it was.

-

“I’m _fine.”_ Lysithea’s rose-coloured eyes glowered at Flayn when the latter had offered her assistance after a battle with the Empire. “Don’t treat me like a frail porcelain doll, you.”

Flayn nibbled on her lower lip, nervously. “My apologies. I did not wish to insult you. Merely to aid you in what seems like a time of need.”

Indeed, Lysithea’s soot-covered face looked unnaturally pale. Her breath came out in quick, shallow puffs, and her hands seemed to tremble. The tips of her fingers were ink-stained, an effect witch Flayn knew came from prolonged use of black magic.

More than any of that, Lysithea looked _drained_. Like a flower leeched of all life in a sunless basement, where it could not thrive.

And yet she faced whatever it was bravely. She shook her head, stumbling past Flayn.

“I don’t need your help! I’m not a child!”

Flayn scrunched up her eyebrows. This was beginning to get old.

“It’s not only children that require help sometimes. We all do.” She said, her voice stern but no harsher than it had always been. “My brother needs help sometimes, too. Like you, he refuses to admit it. But I see it in him, and that doesn’t make him a child.”

Lysithea sniffed in frustration, not looking at her. “There’s not much you can do to help _me_ , Flayn. That goody-two-shoes attitude of yours can’t simply fix every problem under the sun.”

“Perhaps.” Flayn admitted, catching up to the other girl. “But there’s little my healing magic cannot accomplish.”

Lysithea rolled her eyes. “Others have tried.”

“But has anyone with the major Crest of Cethleann tried?”

The white-haired girl paused, seemingly thinking about it; that knowledgeable, calculating brain of hers flicking through what information she possessed.

“…No. Probably not.” She admitted in the end, and Flayn smiled, extending her hand.

“Well, then. Would it not be beneficial to at least try?”

She could see the emotions warring in Lysithea’s face. Expose herself, reveal her weakness? Or keep up the façade? But then again, was the perception of others around her worth discarding the possibility of salvation? Salvation from what, exactly, Flayn didn’t know. But she could feel that something was haunting the other girl. She wanted to help.

“…’Kay.” Lysithea mumbled after a while, puffing up her cheeks and exhaling loudly. “But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone. Yeah?”

Flayn beamed at her, relieved.

“Yes, of course! I won’t tell a single soul, I swear.”

“Good. We can go to my room if you want, no one will bother us there.”

-

Lysithea’s room was decorated in an almost haphazard manner; there was a tapestry depicting a stylised map of the Ordelia territory hanging off one wall, while the other was taken up by notes on Crests, magic, and other mysteries. One corner of her desk was stacked up with books on all topics one could imagine, and there was a crumpled knit quilt on top of her bed. Half-buried beneath it, Flayn could see an old stuffed doll poking out of one corner.

Lysithea sat down on her chair, sizing up Flayn with a scrutinising eye.

“Well, here we are. What do you have in mind?”

Flayn hummed. “Well, first, I need you to tell me what the problem is. Then I can apply my healing magic to fix it.”

Lysithea groaned and buried her face in her hands. “Fine, fine. I guess I can just come out and say it. You know I bear two Crests, yes?”

“Yes, it’s indeed quite the rare blessing!”

The white-haired girl looked up, glaring at her. “ _Blessing_? It is not a blessing. That Goddess of yours must be quite cruel if she considers it one.”

Flayn blinked. “I.. don’t understand-“

_“It’s going to kill me.”_

Silence plucked them both, as they stared at each other. Flayn’s hand had come up, covering her mouth in shock.

“H-How…?” She asked weakly after a few moments. “How could the Goddess have done something so cruel?!”

“It wasn’t the Goddess.” Lysithea looked away, her eyes too bitter to belong to a nineteen-year-old. “Some… I guess they were scientists, in Ordelia. They forced my parents to give me up, or else the Empire would march in and slaughter our people while we watched. My parents were ready to take the risk, but like the foolish little heroine from a fairy story, I stepped up and let them take me. I was eight. I didn’t’ know, back then, that life wasn’t a song.”

“What… What did they do to you?” Flayn whispered. Lysithea winced.

“May sound funny to you, but I don’t remember much. Only the darkness, their voices and their scalpels. I can’t even recall their faces.” She muttered. Flayn didn’t want to press on, imagining what a traumatic experience this would have been for a human child. She swallowed thickly, deciding eventually to come forward with the terrifying thought she had conjured.

“Do you recall, when we were at the Academy? When I was taken.” She asked softly, and Lysithea nodded. “It may sound insane, but… I believe the people that took me, and those that did this to you, they may belong in the same group, or at least have similar goals.”

Lysithea hummed thoughtfully. Then all of a sudden she jumped up and started tearing notes off the wall, while flipping through tome after tome on her desk. Flayn blinked, not having expected this reaction.

“What is it?” She asked anxiously. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, but I think I may have an idea- now sush! I need to think!”

Flayn stood awkwardly in the middle of the room while Lysithea shifted through packs of notes, books, and even a borrowed stack of Hanneman’s papers. She scribbled equation after equation on the back of an old class schedule (how it was still intact after five years, Flayn didn’t know), and in the end she let out a triumphant exclamation, circling the result she had produced and clapping her hands together.

“Got it!” She cheered, her ill-fated situation temporarily forgotten. She grabbed the paper and turned around. “Flayn, look at this. Do you think they may have somehow wanted to extract _your_ Crest from your blood, and put it into another person? Of course, you’d still have your Crest- provided that you survived the ordeal. But they would transfer it to another person, simulating the blessings of the first Saints to humanity-“

She stopped abruptly, trailing off and staring at the wall intently.

“Is everything alright?” Flayn asked worriedly. Lysithea blinked, seemingly coming back to life.

“Yes. But I think there might be more to this crazy theory than I initially thought.” She cleared her throat. “Flayn, I shared my deepest secret with you. Can you do the same for me?”

Flayn suddenly had a terrible feeling about the situation. However, she only nodded numbly. She could not possibly refuse, after what Lysithea had told her. Besides, there was no way a human girl could know…

“Alright.” She said shakily. “What do you wish for me to tell you?”

Lysithea looked up.

“Are you Saint Cethleann?”

Flayn froze, lightning-struck.

 _No_. No, how could she have figured it out like that?! All the years she and Seteth had spent trying to hide who they were, all the sacrifices they had made… how could Lysithea have unveiled it all in the blink of an eye?!

She opened her mouth, then shut it again, like a fish out of water. Lysithea nodded; apparently Flayn’s reaction was enough of an answer.

“I suppose that’s a yes.” She said. “Well I’ll be. Never thought I’d live to see a Saint- Hey, hey! Don’t start crying on me! I won’t tell anyone!”

But Flayn had sunk to her knees and hidden her face in her palms as quiet sobs racked her body. Lysithea hummed guiltily, and knelt by her side.

“Hey. Flayn. Stop acting like a child. I mean, with what I know now, you’re probably thousands of years old. Act like it.”

Flayn looked at Lysithea, her eyes red and wet. “Y-You don’t understand. They’ll kill me. If they find out, they’ll kill me, a-and my brother! They will torture us and then take our souls and imprison them forever!”

Lysithea seemed confused for a moment. Then she tapped her chin with an index finger. “Flayn, if I may be so blunt, there are no records of Saint Cethleann having an older brother. All that is known about her family, is her father; Saint Cichol. Don’t tell me that Seteth is…?”

Flayn let out a small, bitter laugh, mixed with a sob. “He is. He is my father, my dear father who I cannot bear to lose like I lost my mother and the rest of my family. But if you figured it out, Lysithea, others will, too. I have to leave. We have to disappear again.”

“Flayn.” Lysithea kept her voice strict and steady. “Can we sit and think this through for a moment? What are you even saying? Who would wish to hurt you? I mean, I know the Church has done some messed up things, but nobody could possibly blame you! You’re one of the sweetest people I know.”

“There are a lot of thinks you do not know, Lysithea.” She sighed. “I am afraid I cannot explain it all to you. But… I am not human. None of the Saints are. And there is a group of people who despises us for it, and wishes to wipe us off from the face of the earth. They almost succeeded, once. Me, my father and Lady Rhea are the only ones left.”

“But why?” Asked Lysithea, ever the inquisitive spirit. “Why would they want to do that?”

“Because they despise anything they don’t understand. And I believe Edelgard may have sided with them. Goddess knows what they did to her to manipulate her and use her as their pawn… and I could do nothing. I saw our classmate taken by the darkness, and did nothing.”

“Edelgard’s choices are her own.” Lysithea said. “Why not fight them, Flayn? Surely all-powerful saintly beings can overpower these forces.”

Flayn shook her head. “We don’t want any more bloodshed. We don’t want another War. So many lives had been lost, so much blood sacrificed. It cannot happen again, or Fodlan will plunge into ruin. It is why we have to stop Edelgard, too.”

Lysithea gave these words some thought. There were many questions that she had, about so many things; Flayn had lived so long, she’d surely seen and known so much. There was so much knowledge to be shared. But she did not wish to pull a Linhardt on the other girl, so she forced herself to swallow back any questions and focus on the moment instead.

“Anyway. I know I’m just one person with not-so-many years left to live. But I’ll do my best to make sure they never hurt you, Flayn.” She said simply. She never had been too good with emotions and words of comfort, but she believed she owed Flayn at least that much.

Flayn looked up, seemingly taken aback.

“You… would do that for me?” She stammered. Lysithea nodded.

“Yeah, I think I would. Besides, you offered your help. It’s only proper for a lady to offer hers in return.”

Flayn stared at her for a moment as if she’d spoken a foreign language. Then, suddenly, she let out a small giggle.

“Hey! Why are you laughing?”

“I am truly sorry!” The green-haired girl wiped her eyes. “I have never heard you speak like this before. I think I might have forgotten you’re the heir to House Ordelia.”

Lysithea puffed up her cheeks angrily, her face turning red. “What does that mean?! Don’t tell me you think me too young for it! You of all people should know better!”

“No, no, please don’t be angry.” Flayn smiled sweetly. “That is not what I meant at all. Plainly I wished to say you can be very fierce when you wish to be.”

“…Huh.” Lysithea looked away, blushing. “Thanks, I suppose. I’m glad you see my potential.”

An awkward silence fell between them, Flayn fidgeting with the hem of her skirt and Lysithea looking at the ceiling. After a while, the latter cleared her throat.

“Uh… Flayn? Saint Cethleann’s healing abilities bordered the miraculous, right?”

“Yes, they originate from her - _my_ \- association with the Light.” Flayn confirmed. Lysithea nodded.

“Then… do you suppose- I mean, if it’s not too much of a hassle- that you could try to, uh… perhaps undo what has been done to me?”

Without hesitation, Flayn nodded. She smiled, and placed her pale hand upon Lysithea’s magic-stained one.

“I promise that I will try until there’s no ounce of magic left in me. I will return your life to you, Lysithea. I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @flaythleann


End file.
